


Truth to Tell

by jdjunkie



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Episode Tag, Episode: s04e05 Divide and Conquer, M/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-19
Updated: 2011-10-19
Packaged: 2017-10-24 18:56:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/266746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdjunkie/pseuds/jdjunkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He has his ‘Daniel’ face on. The face that reads differently to different people all at the same time. Jack has no idea how he does that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Truth to Tell

After Janet takes Sam home, after Teal’c ensures that the threat is over and seeks refuge in  kel’no’reem, Jack sits in the rec room with Daniel. Two coffees sit on the low table that separates their surprisingly uncomfortable chairs. Also on the table is one slice of slightly congealed apple pie. The pie is for him and he hasn’t touched it.

Daniel is reading; some unfathomable tome on the unsolvable mystery that is Cypro Minoan syllabary. Apparently. He’s playing his usual game of waiting Jack out; there if Jack wants to talk, also there if he doesn’t. It’s as infuriating as it is comforting.

Jack leans back in his seat and lets out a heavy sigh that sounds something like, “God” and slaps his hands to his face, runs them over skin that feels dull and old. He feels tired. So very tired.

“Headache?” Daniel asks without lifting his eyes from the page, and it’s so casual, and yet it’s anything but. Fraiser has obviously primed him on possible post-Zanex machine after-effects.

“Yeah.”

“Want me to get you anything or tell anyone?”

  _A ticket out of here. A do-over machine. Another life._ “It’ll pass. I’ve had my head messed with quite enough for one day.”

Daniel purses his lips, like he wants to say something. Like he’s fighting not say something.

“Something on your mind?” Jack asks, and it’s redundant really, because there always is. Sometimes Jack wants to know what it is when he asks. Sometimes – this time -- he thinks he doesn’t.

“You were re-tested,” Daniel says eventually.

 _Well, fuck._

“Yep.”

Daniel puts down his book, clasps his hands together and shoves them between his knees. It makes him seem small. “I’m not … prying. It’s none of my business. But are you OK with what the test revealed? Whatever it was.” And now he’s looking at him, and Jack can’t read him. He has his ‘Daniel’ face on. The face that reads differently to different people all at the same time. Jack has no idea how he does that.

“It was nothing. Well, something.” A thing that might read differently to different people. Differently to Sam. Shit. What a crappy day.

“I don’t want to know,” Daniel says, but the way he says it suggests he already does. Or suspects he does. Or something. Or maybe that’s just paranoia; Zanex machine-induced paranoia.

“What is truth,” says Jack, dredging up a quote from somewhere, “but what we believe to be truth.”

Daniel leans back in his chair, matching Jack's earlier action, and quirks that little smile that expresses delight and surprise. He has many smiles. Jack knows them all.

“Wow. Relativism. Truth and morality are relative and not absolute. What is truth is relative to a person’s standpoint or situation.”

Jack nods. “And I thought I was just spouting bullshit.”

Daniel snorts a laugh. Jack follows suit.

It’s been a crappy day, but that burst of laughter helps.

Daniel’s eyes meet his and they’re remarkably clear and blue in the dim, cheerless light of the soulless room. There is truth in them. Always. Jack just has to let himself look for it.

“So, you’re OK with whatever it was then? I’d like to know that you’re OK,” Daniel says, quietly.

Truth. Subjective or otherwise. He owes his friend that.

“Not really.”

Daniel nods. He looks down at the sad piece of pie on the table. “Want me to get you some more?”

“That would be good,” Jack says.

Any truth they’ve found here will stay in this room.

[](http://jdjunkie.dreamwidth.org/tag/daniel+jackson#span-cuttag_jdjunkie_81375_1)


End file.
